Okay, so this whole foraging thing. We sneak out at night, thinking maybe they won’t see us. That was good. The bad part is that we couldn’t see either, so we turned on a flashlight, also known as the zombie dinner bell. 15 blocks of running later, we finally make it to Sam’s Club. Just a note for those of you who haven’t already discovered this—Sam’s Club in not the place to go during a crisis (or, more to the point, a zombie apocalypse). Maybe just before, but not during. Not only is the place cleaned out because every idiot in town decided to hit it for supplies, but most of those idiots seemed to die in the checkout line, because there was a freaking zombie marching band waiting for us inside. We lost Kevin in that mess and all we got out of it was a stale box of ho-ho’s.
Aldi was better. There was nothing waiting for us in Aldi. It looked like they must have closed before the shit hit the fan and nobody ever thought to go there afterward. Only problem is that now we get spend the next month until our next forage eating "Millville" crackers and drinking "Dr. Popper" or whatever the hell that crap is that they had there. At least we’re alive. Well, except for Kevin.
Oh, one other thing, we hit the Radio Shack and found this weird netbook device—claims to have it’s own secure satellite network. If we can figure out how to get registered, maybe I can actually post some of this stuff.